


Whatever You Desire

by skavanders



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Hogwarts Sixth Year, Humor, M/M, Minor Angst, Mirror of Erised
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26683264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skavanders/pseuds/skavanders
Summary: Fred has been hounding the reader to go and visit the mirror of erised ever since learning about it in class. However, little did he know that agreeing to this little adventure would bring his desires to life
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Male Reader, Fred Weasley/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	Whatever You Desire

**FRED WEASLEY** ; hogwarts protégé, pranking extraordinaire and quite possibly once of the most infuriating individuals in the entire history of both muggle and wizard kind; had successfully driven you to your wits end. His fascination with the Mirror of Erised had begun as nothing more than a conversation topic, but had gradually grown into more of an obsession, much to your dismay. It was not meant, of course, for him or any of the other students to be informed of such an object existing, much less being kept within the confinements of their own school, but it seemed too late be helped, at this point. Professor Binns had fallen asleep yet again, thus allowing everyone to do as they pleased; which usually included playing a variety of different games, mingling or even joining Binns in his ritualistic nap. Fred had resorted to scribbling down notes on his parchment, most likely about his “brilliant ideas for the joke shop”, while you had taken up the opportunity to be a _responsible_ student and read through one of the many textbooks that was collecting dust on the shelves. ( George was, regretfully, in a different class that day, which meant you got to spend some quality time with your favourite Weasley )

“Not sure how much good that’ll do you.” Fred had commented with a snort. “It’s the same boring material he’s teaching, only in a non-droning voice, slowly…drifting… _off…_ ” His head nodded to the side with each word as he mocked sleep, an exaggerated snore flowing from his wide-open mouth. You rolled your eyes but laughed at his antics nonetheless, nudging his ribs gently. 

“It’s only boring because you have the attention span of a goldfish.” You quipped, earning a playful gasp in response. “I for one think it’s interesting. I mean, this is where it all began — everything we see around us is a privilege few can witness. I like learning about out past and what got us here.” 

Fred sat straight in his chair and folded his arms across the table, giving you a pointed look.

“Even the witch trials?” You grimaced.

“Okay, maybe not the witch trials, but everything else is wonderful!” You flipped a few pages forward and pointed to an illustration of two giants procuring large wooden clubs. “I mean, can you believe that out there, somewhere, there are giants roaming about doing…well, whatever it is giants do?”

“Perhaps, and I could be wrong, they smash people with their huge sticks?”

You tweaked Fred’s side and was delighted to hear him squeak in indignation, a playful glare present upon his features as he swatted away at your prodding fingers. This little weakness of his was adorable, in your eyes, and the sound it produced even more so. It was cliché, yes, and you would rather die a horrible death than admit it to anyone, but Fred’s laugh was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard in all your life. It was better than the chorus of birdsong during an early summer morning, or a soft melody playing on the radio; things that could not possibly hold a candle to the splendor that Fred effortlessly managed to create. 

“Oh, be quiet. I’m sure that from their perspective, their lives are just as complex as our own.”

“Ah, yes, because squashing wizards into jelly for their next meal is quite complex — how rude of me to forget-”

You reached over to firmly place your hand over his mouth, shutting him up almost instantly. There was mirth dancing in his eyes as he chuckled at your frustration, and it had such a deep effect on your demeaner that you had only half the heart to insult him under your breath before pulling back. Shockingly, he did not jump at the opportunity to speak once your hand had removed itself, and instead propped his chin up in the palm of his hand to stare at you expectantly. 

“I know it’s your cup of tea, but whatever the case, we need a good grade to be able to pass. I’m sure if you learn to like it, it’ll get easier to withstand.” You flipped a few more pages forward, only to stop at a page that you had not yet seen. Brows furrowing in confusion, you peered closer at the writing, as well as the illustration beside it. A tall mirror framed with gold embellishments, the glass covered in a thick veil of grime. Under this read ‘the Mirror of Erised’, and beneath _that_ was a paragraph detailing the history of its existence. Fred watched intently as you studied the text with ernest, thus blocking out all other events that might be occurring around you; something that happened often when your nose was buried in a good book. Out of curiosity, he stuck his neck out and read alongside you, cherishing the slight warmth you radiated. 

_“ The Mirror of Erised is a magical artifact that was created at the peak of the nineteenth century, though by whom is unknown. To the naked eye it appears as nothing more than an ordinary mirror, however, it has been proven on numerous occasions by a varying sort of unfortunate souls to be made with the skill of a talented witch or wizard, assuming by its magical properties. Any who look into the mirror will be blessed with the sight of what their heart desires most, but also burdened with the knowledge that it may not come to pass. Many a man have lost their minds wasting away at the feet of this antique, living in the fantasy that it has shown them. “_

“Blimey…” Fred breathed, to which you nodded in agreement, both of your expressions displaying astonishment. 

This was perhaps one of the few pieces of wizarding history that you had not known of, and although it was rather small and insignificant when compared to the larger aspects noted in magic archives, it was fascinating to come across. You skimmed over the paragraph once more, then twice, and eventually tore your gaze from the picture to look at Fred, who now wore a wide grin. You blinked, trying to decipher his newfound attitude. _Don’t tell me I’ve been marked down for early onset ear damage from his constant complaining to me about history, only for him to like a single article on a random page-_

“Do you think Dumbledore knows anything about this?” he asked, scooting forward in his seat. 

You pondered his question for a moment, then shrugged, closing the book. “Not sure. But even if he does, why the sudden interest?”

Fred scoffed and shoved you gently, smirking when you gripped to table in fear of falling. “ _Because_ ,” he stated firstly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, “wouldn’t you like to see your greatest dream come true before your very eyes?”

You feigned thinking it over before humming thoughtfully. “So it’s between becoming a wrinkly old prune with brain damage at the hands of a mirror that can show me what I want, or keeping my sanity? Goodness, Weasley, that _is_ a tough decision.” You felt a laugh rising in your throat that was promptly released at the sight of Fred’s unamused face. From across the room, Binns stirred awake and yawned, stretching back in his chair and and rubbing his eyes. Upon realizing that he had fallen asleep yet again, he sighed tiredly and moved through the desk to hover a few feet above the ground, calling the attention of the students with a raspy cough. 

“Be sure to take notes on the dissolving of the Wizards’ Council. Your knowledge on the matter will be tested next week during exams-” he reached no further in his spiel before everyone was stumbling out of the exit in a rush, clamoring amongst each other. With a sympathetic glance towards the professor; who had given up on his “undesirable band of vagabonds” that he called _pupils_ ; you and Fred packed up your things and exited the class. Giving you time to catch your breath hardly seemed of any importance to the ginger, for he immediately began voicing his thoughts on the mirror after setting a steady pace in the direction of the common room. You paid little attention to what he was actually saying, and more so to _how_ he was saying it, a fond smile threatening to show. He seemed far too enthusiastic for something he knew not much about, in your opinion, but you allowed him to blather to his hearts content. In hindsight, this was probably a bad idea. 

Weeks passed and Fred’s absorption with the mirror had not wavered in the slightest. In fact, it became more of a hobby than anything else, even if he was not able to indulge himself within his own fantasies. At least, that is what you assumed his quest was; to find this artifact and be turned the newest victim of its bewitching power. You shrugged his efforts off at first, even when he went as far as answering his previous question and asking the headmaster if he had known anything about the mirror that would be of use to him. 

_“The relic is enchanting, yes, but no less dangerous. I suggest that you do not go looking for it. Mr. Weasley.”_ Dumbledore had stated gravely, his gaze penetrating and of a certain warning quality.

But anyone who has ever dealt with someone of particularly headstrong stature should know that a mere piece of advice will not easily sway them from their task, and Fred was no exception. 

It was not until the eve before spring that he finally sprung his plan. The time was nigh for anxious witches and wizards to rest their weary eyes — as too many hours had been spent studying within the library, leaving them disoriented and groggy with sleep-deprivation — and the moon was at its pinnacle in the inky black sky, dappled with sporadically shining stars. The boys’ dorms of Gryffindor tower were silent, save for the occasional string of obnoxiously loud snoring or rustle of sheets. You, being one of the many to stay up later than usual in order to read up on your herbology notes ( it was safe to say it wasn’t your best class ), now lay half awake, breathing softly through your nose and enjoying the peaceful aura that hung over the dorm. 

A couple of feet away there arose the sound of someone stirring, but you didn’t bother opening your eyes to see who it was. A tight feeling grasped at your chest when footsteps could be heard approaching your bedside, but it lasted no longer than a few seconds after a familiar voice called out.

“Y/n? Are you up?”

“There are many definitions of ‘up’, which one are you referring to?” You asked smugly, a tired smile near splitting your cheeks. Fred flicked you lightly on the forehead, muttering something about you and your “smartass comments”. 

“You should have been put into Ravenclaw.” He mused aloud, beckoning you to stand once opening yours eyes. You looked at him curiously but did as he requested and got to your feet, glancing over your shoulder at the dozens of sleeping bodies tucked in their beds. He took your hand in his and tugged you in the direction of the door, laughing quietly at the crimson red blush that dusted your nose and the tips of your ears. His palm was warm against your own and sent a pleasant chill to wrack your body with shivers. You played it off as a result from the cool breeze blowing in from the wide windows and shrugged your shoulders back, shuffling after Fred. 

“Do you trust me?” 

It seemed a suspicious thing to inquire, and you made that clear by raising a brow at him, but you nodded nonetheless, apprehensively, albeit. Fred dragged you out of room and down the spiraling staircase, careful of making too much noise in fear of being spotted by Filch or any of the stricter prefects, then down a long corridor. You were suddenly glad that you had decided to wear socks tonight, otherwise the freezing stone floor against your bare feet would have been unbearable. Fred, however, who was dressed only in his cotton pajamas, didn’t seem bothered by the cold in the slightest. He ducked behind a pillar and poked his head out to check for anyone, soon resuming his pace whilst you slacked behind. 

“Wait, Fred, can you at least tell me where we’re going?” You were breathless from jogging all about the lower level of the castle, and yet you still made no attempt to wiggle your way out of the other male’s grip. 

“The Room of Requirement.” Came his blunt reply. 

“The Room of…what? What’s that?”

“It’s a place in Hogwarts. It reveals itself to whoever needs it the most.” 

You pursed your lips, torn between puzzlement and disbelief at his answer. You had initially thought that you knew the school like the back of your hand, but now being blessed with this new information, you were beginning to doubt that. It occurred to you as you turned another corner that Fred could be making it up, but you supposed that there was no reason for him to do so, and that if this chamber really _did_ exist, perhaps you were not desperate enough for it to be disclosed. 

Fred came to an abrupt halt which caused you to run clumsily into his backside, panting before a large, blank wall. He scoffed at your unimpressed reaction and told you to wait, and you did. Moments later, the wall began to shift; the formerly cemented blocks rearranging themselves to form an archway; a towering black door now in the presence of what used to be empty space. Your jaw fell slack in wonder, much to Fred’s entertainment, and you found yourself absentmindedly slipping your hand from his to walk forward and trace your fingers over the opening. After regaining your composure, you swallowed thickly and nodded to Fred.

“And what, pray tell, is in this _Room of Requirement_ that you feel it so important for me to see?”

Fred let out a satisfied hum and waltzed up to place his weight on the entrance, pushing it open so that the two of you could enter. “This.”

You heard only the doors shutting behind you and felt a brief gust of wind on the nape of your neck before you stood, gaping at the sight in front of you. The mirror; the same one you had read about in the history book; the same one that was told to ensnare poor souls with their greatest desire; the same on that Dumbledore himself had advised not to go hunting for; was there in the middle of the room, glinting as though it had been freshly polished. One glimpse was all it took for your blood to boil, and your fists to clench. You whirled around and pointed an accusing finger at Fred, trying to find the words that would best phrase your currently mixed feelings.

“You-…Oh, you bastard.”

He tossed his head back with a hearty laugh and you had to restrain yourself from losing your composure, a fierce glare present upon your features. “You knew it was dangerous!”

He gasped, clutching his chest. “It’s not my fault! Dumbledore went all quiet when I asked him where it was, so one can only assume it must have been hidden somewhere in Hogwarts. It was only a matter of how badly I wanted to see it, and thus,” he gestured to the mirror with a low bow, “it was presented to me.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already gone and looked.” You grumbled, but the glimmer in Fred’s eye gave it all away. You covered your face and gave a prolonged sigh into your hands, shaking your head in dismay. 

“Come on, now, you’re not _that_ mad are you?” He sounded playful, and yet, there was a hint of wariness in his tone, as if he actually thought you could ever be upset with him for long. This alone was enough to make your heart flutter, for the thought of someone as reckless and sarcastic as Fred caring about the small details of your premise towards him was truly touching. Or perhaps you were reading into too much, all for the sake of indulging yourself in the fantasy you had built in honor of him. Either way, you were conflicted and very well displeased with him for keeping secrets; especially one as large as this. Part of you wondered if he had even bothered to tell George, for the two were thick as thieves and confided in each other at all times.

“Not mad, just disappointed.” You said, hoping that he could sense the truth in your words. You could never truly be furious with him, even when he was being a conniving, _reckless little shit_ who never failed to set your nerves on edge. “But not surprised…” 

  
Fred chuckled and placed his hands on your shoulders, pivoting your body so that you were now facing towards the mirror. He pushed you gently, prompting you to scoff and brush him off. Part of you wanted to scold him for being so stupid, but a voice from within reason that it would be of no use, what when considering how well your attempts at setting him straight had gone in the past. You had to admit that you admired his persistence, though. You bit your lip anxiously and glanced over your shoulder, swallowing thickly.

“Pull me back if I go into a trance, yeah?” Fred nodded and gestured for you to go ahead, obviously impatient to know what you would see. 

You faced the mirror head on and felt your muscles tense in anticipation, a deep sense of dread willing you to hold your breath in wait. For a moment, nothing happened, and then there was a flicker of movement to your right. Your brows knitted together as Fred approached you, wearing his signature lopsided smile. You frowned, not noticing any change in the reflective surface. It wasn’t working.  
  
“Fred, can you step aside? You’re in the way.” You said. A soft gasp was your only response, and it took a minute to realize that Fred’s lips hadn’t moved when he did so. Your throat became dry as you squinted at the behind you, as convincingly lifelike as the one who stood nowhere near the mirror. You had figured that there would be a notice as to whether the artifact was actually functioning; a veil of smoke or flash of light before showing what it was the person desired; but apparently not. It was instantaneous and scarily authentic when it came to presenting forms and faces, and usually you would be impressed by such magic, but given that you were just outed by an inanimate object, you were feeling a little pathetic.

“I-” Your voice cracked and you reached up to wipe your eyes, newly brimmed with tears. “I’m sorry, that was- I didn’t mean to…” At this point, you weren’t really sure what to say — you felt more like crying than anything — but it was customary to apologize when admitting your feelings to your one-sided crush. Or at least, that was what you had picked up on from years of watching other people do it and make a fool of themselves. The one problem was that you had always hoped your predicament might end differently. In another world, in another life, it ended with you and Fred getting married and living a happy life together, devoid of pain and fear. It ended with reciprocated attractions and all the things you had dreamed of doing with him, not as his best friend, but as something more.

“Hey.” Fred whispered, a sweetness lacing his tone; one that you had never heard when he referred to you. You had not registered his nearing presence, nor did you take heed his fingers lacing with yours until his breath was coming out in soft puffs beside your ear. The affection was unexpected, to say the least, but you did not reject it. “Do you know what I saw when I looked in the mirror?” 

You shook your head, feeling as if you were in a daze, and questioned why you hadn’t wondered that before. Fred’s free hand snaked around your waist, his thumb rubbing small circles across your stomach. Again, you were overwhelmed by the nausea that rapidly overcame that area; successfully twisting your innards into a complex knot.

“I saw myself with you,” he began, as if testing the waters to see your reaction, “and we were happy. _I_ was happy. I don’t think you realize how important that was for me to see.” You looked up at him, unsure. There was sincerity in his voice able to cure the doubt festering inside of you, and yet…

“It’s so important, because I used to not be sure of what I wanted in life. It was just me and George against the world before you came in, and ever since, I’ve been doubting myself. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, which is why it was so hard for me to come to terms with it.”

You had managed to blink away the tears and was met with a sight that was previously thought to be limited to your dreams. There was no mischief, no foreshadowing of teasing comments or cruel tricks to pass. He was serious; the most you had ever seen him, if at all. 

“You made me sure, not just of myself, but what I want.” Fred paused, his lips hovering mere millimeters from yours. He let out a breathy laugh and squeezed your hand gently. “Who knew? All it took was a mirror to show me how much of a blind fool I was for waiting this long-” 

You moved first, tilting your head to the side and thrusting your mouths together, sighing blissfully into the kiss. Fred smirked lightly and let go of your hand in order to place it on your hip, his body pressing against yours. Sooner should you be struck down by lightning than ever waste time comparing a kiss such as this to the thousands of ones unlike it — detailed in a long list of cliché romance novels — and thus you simply enjoyed it while there was still air in your lungs to spare. Fred pulled back after a while, but it was fortunately brief before his lips were on you once more, leaving you breathless and grasping at his woolen jumper. 

“Far too long.” He mustered between kisses, each one more magnificent than the last. “And you do feel the same, don’t you?”

You cupped his cheeks and brushed your noses against each other, beaming so wide that your cheeks felt close to splitting. There you were, in his arms, and there you would stay for a little while longer, if it could be helped. 

“You know I do.”


End file.
